Placebo
by Noche Buena
Summary: A confrontation happens between Jess and Dean. After Jess kisses Rory, Dean needs to know why... and finds out that maybe things aren't so easy as they seem. Slash, re-done, so it's a little better.


*** ATTENTION! ***

  
All right, before all you guys go beating on me in the reviews- of *course* they're not gay! I know that. And Tristan and Rory aren't together, and Jess and Rory aren't together, and Luke and Lorelai aren't together. Doesn't mean you can't twist them to do naughty things. That's what fanfic is.

  
Slash is when you 'slash' characters and make them gay. 

Again, a warning. If you cannot tolerate homosexuality (two men kissing) then you aren't going to like this. I also suggest you be over the age of 15 (at the absolute minimum), ie, if your parents won't let you watch R rated movies, then you can't read this.

You've been warned! 

Disclaimer: I don't own Jess, or Dean, or Luke's Diner, or the dumpster. Also, Jess and Dean are not gay in the show, and they're not gay here- they're simply experimenting a tiny bit... Jared Padelecki and Milo Ventimiglia, I suspect, are not gay either.  
  
  
READ, 7/28/02: I need a beta for this fic.... to clean it up a bit, it's a little messy in my eyes. If you would like to beta this fic, please, email me. Some parts have been a little cleared up.

********************

The means are right for taking, fade to grey  
Trying to be ruthless, in the face of beauty  
In this matrix, it's plain to see  
It's either you or me. 

Bruise,  
pristine,  
serene,  
we were born to lose.

Cast a line with a velvet glove  
Reading like an open book, in the hands of love  
In this matrix, it's plain to see  
It's either you or me.

Bruise,  
pristine,  
serene,  
we were born to lose.  
  
**************** 

  
"It's not going to be you. I was the first. You... were never hers."

The boy said it nonchalantly, blue eyes passive. It was as though he didn't really believe that it was going to be either of them, whatever circumstances these were.

"Hell, you were always the placebo... sweetheart..." the other boy's face uplifted into a smirk, dark eyes quirking, quite aware of the nonchalant boy's irritation. This boy loved it. He fed off of it, like it were a luxury of Godiva chocolate.

"Was she just some trophy for you? Wait, no. Don't answer that." The first boy came a little closer, his tennis shoes practically grinding into hot pavement. "I already know what you're going to say, and it won't make things better."

"Hardly," said Jess. "As though you thought I could make things better for you. You're just here to make yourself feel better."

  
  
"Hardly," the boy added again, for extra emphasis, Dean supposed.

This is all the beginning climax of a six month burning frustration. One frustration that could scratch out all your sanity, itch the very depths of your body cavity, ripple your flesh and be the very saber in your side. The one that stole the one you loved the most, kept you awake and sweating at night, and there just wasn't an excuse for it. This is what irritated the boy from Chicago the most. He couldn't find an excuse for anything that happened. 

All thought was, "I tried. And I wasn't... good enough. For her."

This was all before the...the apocalypse came. Well, that was how it felt to the native Illanoian, except a "lite" version. 

The apocalypse wasn't the end of the world, it was the snapping of his seemingly endless patience with the girl he loved. He tried to hate her, he tried to write a dozen letters full of mean, nasty curse words to her. It didn't work. All he could imagine was her face when she would open them, and she probably wouldn't understand. She didn't know that he had seen the actions down by the river.

How his patience had snapped, you probably all do know. He watched in mute shock at a wedding as his girlfriend pushed her lips to the boy who rippled his flesh. He was frozen to the spot, and he was just glad that nobody else was watching. Pity wasn't a gift he loved to open. It was all so familiar to him; how many times do American teenage boys listen to their favorite punk/pop/angry metal rapper scream about tortured, tainted love? 

At that moment, the long rope was shredded into tiny, sinewy pieces.

It was a stupid metaphor, and he knew it. It would be too hard to come up with something better, and he was just so tired of putting up with new and interesting things that he could insert into a conversation to make him seem sophisticated. He was just so tired of putting up with the kind of fake relationship he had instilled between his... his "girlfriend." 

He shook his head. No, it would be girlfriend. Without the underlying quotes. She was still his. He had seen her running, running away from that idiot.

  
  
She didn't love him.

"Hardly, what?" said Dean. He glared at Jess, the boy he had been drowning in his dreams. 

"Know what I'm going to say," said Jess. He liltingly raised his glossy eyebrows and tapped his left hand impatiently on the smelly green garbage dumpster behind Luke's Diner. This is where Dean finally encountered the boy, dragging in puffy white clouds of nicotine, reading some book and sitting on the dumpster. Perfectly fitting environment for Jess. Dean wished a more fatal environment, but he guessed that wouldn't be happening as long as Rory liked him.

Jess leaned back against the rough brick as a soft beam of sunlight hit the side of his dark hair. "Besides, what the hell are you talking about? I haven't done anything."

Dean contemplated that for a second- no, he hadn't kissed Rory. He had made Rory- - have feelings for him without a single kiss, which was another thing that made him hate Jess. "You kissed Rory," he stated.

"Yes..." said Jess slowly, looking at Dean with- what was that? Smug appreciation?

"I did kiss her." 

No, it wasn't smug appreciation at all. What was Jess doing? Dean had seen Rory kiss him. He felt a stir in his stomach, and wondered if Jess was playing some twisted mind game on him. Maybe Jess had been the game all along, but from what he could tell, Jess was trying to cover up for Rory's hopefully nonexistent feelings for the rebellious boy.

"I saw you. You and Rory, on the bank, Sookie and Jackson's wedding. Don't pretend it didn't happen, because it did."

"It did happen. I kissed her, I started it all. I admit it, farm-boy. But turns out that book-girl you have loves you, and she ran away. So, you have absolutely nothing to worry about," said Jess, rather flatly as his brown eyes squinted at his book.

"You ever read 'The Age of Innocence?'" he asked in a conversational tone. "It's good. Really expensive in first edition, though."

Dean reached up to grab the latter, and put the book down flat on the chipped dumpster's surface. Jess was being so annoyingly passive. It was really something that could enrage you after a while.

"I want you to stay away from her. I'm not kidding this time. Don't talk to her, not about books, not about anything. Don't even come near her."

Jess' eyes flicked downward at Dean. "You've got to be kidding me. The way you're talking, a person would think you're abusing her. You think her mom would let her date you if she knew the way you were talking?"

"Yeah, that's why you're dating her, right? Because you have a nice, clean, track record. And you don't pummel the basketball team after school, and you don't steal the books from the library," Dean spat out. 

"It's not like you have anything to worry about." Jess had his attention completely turned on Dean now. He pulled his legs up to his chest haphazardly, loosely draping his toned arms over them. "She loves you, you know. She could hardly care about me, it's just I'm the only one who could outread her. It interests her, and that's about it, dumbass. Anyone can see that," he said in an oddly amused voice, as though he knew better.

"Anyone can see that you're just trying to screw her," said Dean in a crudely cheerful voice.

"And the reason why males and females are biologically attracted to each other... is so that they can drink root beer together? Good God, someone would think you've been ditching bio, " said Jess disbelievingly.

"Of course I don't want to 'screw' Rory." 

Jess was now a firm believer that 'screw' and 'Rory' should never be in the same sentence together. Especially the way Dean said it, you'd think it was what Dean wanted to do.

"You know what?" Dean asked.

"What, sweetcheeks?" replied Jess, fully not interested in what the taller boy had to say anymore.

"Don't call me 'sweetcheeks,'" gritted Dean.

"You want to get on with it?" 

"Love to. I don't really care anymore. Just stay away from Rory and me, and you'll be able to have children when you're 30. Although, considering it's you, you wouldn't be able to have them anyway."

"Ooh, burn," cooed Jess, not really paying attention to the raving mad boy in front of him. "Would you mind leaving me alone? Trying to read here," he said pointedly. 

"I wasn't done with you yet," gritted Dean.

"Oh, and here I was, thinking you had made your point in one sentence, but I guess you're just going to stretch it out. Go on," said Jess, waving his hand in a circle as though to say, 'point. Now.'

  
  
Dean fumed a little. How was it that the only one person in the world that could make him feel like shit was so short?

Dean had a sudden thought boiling up in his mind. "What do you want with Rory, anyway?" he said. "That's one of my points. What you want with her. If you're just playing with her to drop her... then you're a sicker bastard than I thought."

"Rory? She's interesting," replied Jess plainly. "The same reason you're her boyfriend, you think she's interesting. "

"I'm not kidding, Jess."

"And neither am I. I like her, and I'm not going to deny it to you. And what do I want with her? She's a friend. I really don't expect anything from her," said Jess.

"Have you told her?" asked Dean, suddenly incredibly concerned. He could see the honesty simmering behind a mask of nonchalance in Jess' brown eyes... it was obvious that Jess wasn't trying to meet them with Dean. He was sure that Jess could feel the imposing weight of Dean's glare on his face, searching for that honesty that kept averting him. In that one moment of rare emotion from Jess, burning out in just a nanosecond, Dean felt a surge of power come over him, but kept it to himself. His heart thudded against his ribs insistently. "That you..."

Rory... Rory hadn't dated anyone before him, and not to call her naive or anything in the dating department, but she really did have an extremely accepting personality. She wouldn't become egotistical if someone told her that they liked her, but she wouldn't ask anymore questions, and she would believe it. She would accept you, love you... for whatever you were. 

"No," said Jess. He sighed. "And I'm not planning on doing it, so you really don't have to worry about losing your girlfriend anymore, Chicago. She doesn't love me or like me, really, she loves you, and I'm thinking you better start accepting that, because I've told you at least a thousand times."

"And I don't believe it," said Dean flatly. He crossed his arms over his thin t-shirt.

"That she loves you?"

"No... I know that."

"Do you really? Because it sounds like you don't trust her."

"I know it," said Dean more firmly, but obviously not accepting it. He flinched reflexively."Do you?"

"What?" Jess innocently looked at Dean, his lips in a firm line.

"Love her!" demanded Dean. He had to know, he just had to... his chest was threatening to blow up, his mind was screaming at him to get the information, fill in the puzzle and finish it, get closer to the end of his worries. Dean felt raw... all over, like someone had scrubbed him with sandpaper.

"It's really none of your business."

  
  
"She really is my girlfriend."

  
  
"What I feel, or don't feel, isn't."

  
  
"But you do. God, it's so obvious, Mariano.... you think I'm stupid?"

  
  
"Is that a rhetorical question?"

  
  
"Don't answer a question with a question."

  
"You're not even *vaguely* threatening, Farm Boy."

  
  
"Don't call me that," Dean spat out furiously. "I never wanted to be part of this. I never wanted you to come. I never wanted Rory to meet you. And you did, and how you did... you weren't supposed to be here." 

Dean felt rather helpless. It was useless to fight against Jess, because he read far too much. He knew too much against Dean, although if they happened to be physically fighting, Dean probably could get some really good swings. But the thing that Dean hated most was that helplessness. He felt as though any word he'd say to Jess would just bounce right off of him, and it made Dean feel like everything he'd ever learned about this world was... nothing.

  
"Then don't get involved. Just turn and walk, because you brought this lovely talk upon yourself. You walked here, you interrupted me, you hurled insults at me, and you know what? I. Don't. Want. Your. Girlfriend," enunciated Jess, his eyes a clear flame of feeling and his words sharp and halted. He cocked his head angrily and set his jaw straight. 

"I can't."

"You've got legs, haven't you? Move them. Pick your legs up and scooch on your ass if you have to."  
  


"No, I can't until I know what the hell you've been doing with Rory. What you want with her. I need to know. I have to know."  
  


"You really don't need to know, because there has been nothing happening with her and me."  
  


"God! What is the matter with you?"

  
"Well, why don't you ask Rory, then? I'm sure she can tell you."

  
"Tell me what? You kissed her."

  
"Yeah," coughed Jess, looking up at the sky with a blender of anger and... was that sadness? On his face. He breathed heavily. "She kissed me."  
  


"What, now you're surprised and disappointed that she didn't want you? Funny, coming from you."  
  
  
"Yes, I'm very surprised and disappointed and now I'm never going near her again," Jess rolled his eyes. "What are we even talking about again?"

"You kissed Rory."

"And we're back to that...."

"Because it seems it's a pivotal form of information, a kiss."

"You have a whole scientific crew to figure it out for you, Chicago? It wouldn't surprise me. Well, your crew would be wrong because it meant nothing to me."

"What?"

"Rory. I really don't care," said Jess.

Dean's expression faded. "You're joking."

"Yes, ha ha, funny."

"And you're being ambiguous," sighed Dean with a realization that Jess wasn't just going to come out and say that he loved Rory, wanted her, wanted to be her boyfriend, or whatever he had in mind.  
  
Dean only hoped that he could wear Jess down by the time it was nightfall. Whatever it took, he had to know why Jess had kissed Rory, why he pursued her so much... was it because Jess hated him? 

"Is it because you have some grudge against me, or something? That you kissed her. Everything."

"As much as you might like that the world revolves around you, it actually, surprise and disappointment, doesn't. No. It wasn't because of that... and I'll add, for the record, and a new piece of information for you to stew over, that she kissed me. You know, I've got a mighty hankering for a tuna cheese melt, so I'm just going to go inside and leave you with your 'turmoiled teenage toil.' I'm not going after your girlfriend. Get over it already. You never let dead things die. Talk about beating the horse," trailed Jess, hopping off the dumpster with a practiced ease, dusting off the back of his loose jeans. 

He turned around and grabbed the thick book, motioning at the rusted back door of Luke's Diner with the object. "Lunch time," he smirked, a broad smile coming over his face.

Dean's mouth opened in shock. Surely, Jess was lying. He felt a slice across his heart, a fist squeezing it harshly. He was probably crumbling to pieces inside.... anguish was pouring through his blood like liquid oxygen. If someone touched him right now, he would probably burst into ashes, and be swept away into that dumpster. And Rory probably wouldn't care. 

He realized, with a wounding tightening in his chest, that Rory most obviously more than liked Jess. Regardless of the fact that she might, or might have not kissed him. He probably had known ever since he had seen the two talking together by the cash register. Now that he had watched it all unfold into Jess kissing Rory-- no.... Rory... kissing... Jess.

It was almost unbearable to watch Jess about to turn around into the very establishment that had brought probably hundreds of lovers together.

Sickening.

Because Jess had never kissed her. He hadn't. His girlfriend had. Dean felt a surge of intense emotion fall over him... 

Then suddenly, out of the blue, Dean had this horrible, terrible, ferocious urge to smash his lips to Jess, anywhere and everywhere on him. He took a deep breath and blinked. Whoah, dizzy. Dean realized that he must be very easy when he was in mute torrents of pain. He blinked again, and tried to breathe... again. He was going to collapse, any minute. 

"So, I'm going. Anything else you'd like to say to me, because I'm not going to be having cute little chit-chat conversations with you anymore. Not that we ever had them, but now, not ever. Oh, nostalgia." Jess faked a tear running down his left cheek.

Jess was about two feet in front of him, easily standing and grinning, as though he knew what was happening in Dean's head. 

Dean couldn't help but notice the height difference between him and the shorter boy. He was at least six inches taller than the boy, three inches with the spiky dark brown hair. Dean wondered what it would be like to kiss Jess. It was an extremely odd feeling, one that he hadn't had before. Ever. Dean's eyes flicked down to Jess' lips, which were a very understandable bad-boy pouty. A light shade of pink with a full bottom lip resting rather adorably over a determined chin and over a grinning row of snow white teeth. 

He was so sick. Dean was sick, sick, sick. What, now that he knew Jess hadn't done anything, he wanted to kiss him? Oh, God, he hoped that Babette would never fall for Jess.

But he was sick.

It couldn't be that different from kissing a girl, except he could be kissing the person who he hated. Didn't he see in a movie once that hate and passion most of the times fueled sexual desire? Dean almost shook his head, unbelieving that he was thinking about kissing a *boy*. A boy that he *hated*, nontheless. That was almost as sickening as his previous thoughts.

And then Dean's thoughts had wondered to... other parts of the male body. Toned arms and defined abdominal areas, and... other... parts that could be hard and... Dean blushed crimson at the thought, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. His thoughts were definitely running into the dangerous areas. And he normally never thought that way.

But having Jess standing so real, right in front of him... it made him breathless, made the tightening in his chest unbearable, made him nervous beyond belief. Because he wasn't gay, he hadn't ever liked boys, and this was really... really intense. A dizzying rush of utter disbelief fell over him, and he felt like he needed to gasp to take in some air, again. He felt like crying... such a bad, bad week. His girlfriend kissed the boy he wanted to... so badly...

Dean crushed his left fist into a ball, in vain attempts to control himself. He could feel his finger going white. 

Jess' smile diminished as he watched Dean's intense gaze directed... At him. He wiped his right palm (the one not holding the book) on the lap of his jeans. "What, are you going to hit me or something?"

Dean tried to swallow the desire welling up in him. What was *wrong* with him? Jess blinked, looking at Dean with concern. His charcoal black eyelashes rested upon his olive skin for a beat, and fanned back up. "Hello my name is Jess welcome to this planet how may I help you?" Jess tried again.

"Hel-"

And that was when Dean happened to cut him off, suddenly needing to do this once in his life- and only once.

He closed the aching gap between the two of them, and smashed his lips to Jess', only needing to bend down a little. Dean gave an inward gasp, while Jess' gasp was lost as Dean moved his lips against his, licking at his bottom lip, tugging at the flesh, shooting missiles of unholy, hot desire to lower regions of his body. No *wonder* Rory liked Dean, thought Jess wildly as his own lips replied to Dean's mastery of kissing. Jess was shocked with himself. Now, he had done some pretty out-there things, but this was the frosting on the cake. A mental image of Dean slathered in frosting came up in his mind, and to get rid of it, he pushed himself harder against Dean's already heated and hard body. 

Dean didn't even care if he would die from oxygen deprivation. It was only so natural to have this lithe, muscular body molded to the length of his body, and as he shut his eyes his senses narrowed. It felt so incredibly good like that. Jess put one hand on Dean's strong left shoulder, and he dropped the book in order to graze his hand underneath Dean's chin, and to pull him in even closer, if that was even possible.

It was true, then. What he had seen in movies. The hate, and passion? At least a hundred times better than he ever thought it could be. All the tension and hate had rolled itself up into this kiss, into the opening and closing and gasping and rubbing and pushing and licking. It was weird in the extremely good sense, thought Jess as he could feel himself tremble when Dean put a large hand on the small of his back, *just* above his ass. It was all he could do without moaning, which he was about to do until Dean slid the tip of his pink tongue over Jess' slightly ajar lips, fully plumped from the kissing.

The stroking of his back and the licking of his lips was all but the beginning as Dean slid his hot and glistening tongue into Dean's mouth. Then, Jess moaned and it unraveled something in the back of the Chicago boy's mind. The sound of Jess moaning encouraged him on. So he was doing something right. It was just so new... Different. And wholly erotic.

Dean's tongue slid smoothly over Jess', tracing the slick pockets of his mouth, their lips moving furiously together again. Then, with surprise, Jess found a hard... Hard *thing* poking into his lower stomach, and he realized that Dean not only wanted him, he wanted him badly. Jess was too preoccupied with Dean's tongue to think of what the fricken' hell they were both doing. Their lips brushed over each other over and over, tingles of white-hot heat traveling downwards towards *both* of their hard members.

Jess ground into Dean's lap, sighing as he broke away from his lips to catch a gasping breath, and then meshing his mouth against his again, thoroughly enjoying the maddening friction that coiled up a fire of want. The fact that it was just so wrong, and so good at the same time... And that anybody could walk out of Luke's Diner and see the two boys moving frantically against each other in hopes of unbelievable amounts of pressure. Well, it was really, orgasmic.

Jess stilled as Dean's wandering hands cupped his firm ass, and then he melted into him furthermore, rubbing himself against Dean with a renewed passion. He didn't even think to ask as of what Dean was doing, but he just *really* didn't care when Dean's hands started stroking his butt. Then, he got a wicked idea instilled in his mind, and he pressed both his hands on Dean's warm chest, and slowly started traveling them down. Jess latched his mouth onto Dean's neck as Dean uttered the first word of the encounter: "Jessssss..."

Jess had the urge to press Dean up against the wall and have his way with him, but stuck to his licking Dean's neck and attempting to squeeze more of those heavenly sounds out of his voice box. Jess wandered his hands up and down Dean's pectorals, moving slower up and down as he went. When his heated hands reached the belt loop of Dean's pants, he quickly moved his right hand down to the hard member he had found poking into him a couple minutes before, and pressed down for a second.

Dean let out a strangled noise, and groaned again, gripping Jess' shoulders as though it were the end of the world. The fingers moved against him with a fierce need, causing his own need to grow and grow and grow. And for him to grow so hard it was practically painful, so he clutched Jess' ass and just kept on rubbing, his eyelashes shadowing the porcelain skin of his cheekbones. 

Then, as quickly and as hotly as this all had began, Dean released himself from Jess' grasp and blinked slowly again, gasping for breath as though he had just run a marathon. His chest rose and fell with a fervor. "Fuck you," he whispered, watching in shock as he saw the equally, extremely surprised boy lick his lips and swallow unconsciously. 

Jess couldn't say anything. For once, he was speechless. He had just kissed a *boy*. A fucking *boy*. All he could do was pant like a dog in heat and stare at Dean... Who had the most incredible mouth he had ever encountered.

Dean felt as though his stomach had been through a grinder. His boxers... Felt like they were being stretched so far their stitching would break. And his heart... So lightweight it would float up towards the sky. "Fuck you," he repeated again, his voice a low, gritty, and husky tone. If he hadn't collapsed before, he would when he got home... he would collapse, and breathe, and tell himself to not stop the breathing.

He spun on his heel and ran away.

Jess closed his eyes to find his book on the pavement floor. He couldn't even remember what he had read. He ran a supple hand through his soft dark brown hair, and swallowed again. Had... had he just... done that? He looked downwards. Apparently, so. He was still so hard he could probably cut through a hamburger. Maybe that book.

Either way... 

A lot of people wanted to kiss him... which was a good thing.

And the funny thing was, the only kiss he would ever want again... would be Dean's...

And either way...  
  
He'd be in the shower a long time tonight.  
  
  
{fin} {end} {esta terminado}

  
  



End file.
